


Crooked feet

by northernmongrel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Deadlock McCree, Fluff and Angst, Interspecies Sex, M/M, Weird Dynamics, mermaid au, mermaid!gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 02:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10630419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernmongrel/pseuds/northernmongrel
Summary: Jesse McCree falls in love with a man who happens to be the king of the pacific. alternate universe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> slowly crawling out from beneath a haze of greyness and melancholy. but hey, look at this self indulgent mess. I apologize in advance for any mistakes~

The rain is pouring down in North Oregon. Sheets of water, slanting down from the grey skies at an increasingly _annoying_ rate. Jesse’s flannel shirt is soaked despite loping between the bus stop and the boathouse, one of several that have been constructed in the port district of Coos Bay. 

 

His fingers are stiff and he curses while attempting to key open the door. Eventually, he jams the key in and lets himself inside, slamming the door closed behind him. The sound echoes off tin walls. He kicks off his boots and strips himself of the damp flannel that has begun to stick to his clammy skin. 

 

Rain drums against the tin roof. The interior is dim; the windows stained green by moss. He makes his way along the wooden deck that surrounds the plot of sheltered ocean. It’s only about thirteen yards wide—forty long. Enclosed on each side by cement and rusty chain link under water. The shallowest end is a somewhat pleasant combination of wet sand and pebbles. The drop off is severe on the deep end though; Jesse can’t even peer the bottom of the enclosure. 

 

The wooden boards creek beneath his bare feet as he ambles up to the shallow end. Seating himself on the dock’s edge, he dangles his legs off, digging his toes into cool sand. 

 

Jesse waits. 

 

Three minutes—ten minutes—fifteen. 

 

Eventually he sets the plastic bag of variables off to the side and pulls out a cigarette. The smoke is heady in the enclosed environment. The smell ten-fold beneath the dankness of rain. He fills his lungs with warm smoke and allows a shiver to travel down his spine.

 

A splash sounds from the furthest end. The dark waters ripple before Gabriel’s head breaks the surface. The merman is nearly indistinguishable against the sunless waters. Long dark hair that fans across the water’s top as Gabriel treads closer to Jesse. 

 

“Afternoon sweetheart,” Jesse says with a smile, finishing off his cigarette and smashing it against the deck’s surface, “Brought you a lil’ something from the market.” 

 

Jesse holds up the white plastic bag.

 

Gabriel raises an eyebrow; “Bribery? You should be ashamed.”

 

Jesse laughs—the sound warm and hearty. 

 

“Yeah- _yeah_. Or maybe you’re the one using me for grocery runs. Who knows.” he shrugs and slips from the dock’s edge, ambling across the small spit of sand. Kneeling by the water’s surface, he hands the bag to Gabriel. 

 

“Who knows.” Gabriel hums in agreement, taking the bag. The merman beaches himself in the shallows but keeps his tail submerged. 

 

Gabriel’s a glorious thing if Jesse has ever seen one. Olive skin—dark hair that flows down to his waist, wavy but not quite to the point of curls. His upper body sculpted from muscle and sinew; built to withstand the pressure of the Pacific ocean’s darkest depths. Gabriel’s tail is off limits to Jesse, along with his gills. _But oh, Gabriel’s tail._ Thick with muscle and spotted with handsome patterns of grey-on-black-on-green . Strong enough to break bone with the flick of a dorsal muscle.

 

_A leopard shark_ , Jesse had mused one day after flipping through a oceanic species handbook he'd plucked from a library shelf. An off handed opinion that had been immediately shot down by an indignant Gabriel. 

 

“ _North Pacific decedent_.” Gabriel had corrected with a smack to the back of Jesse’s head. 

 

He chuckles at the memory, rubbing a thumb across the stubble on his chin. He watches as Gabriel opens the plastic bag, scrutinizing it’s contents.

 

The merman pulls out a hunk of Alaska cod wrapped in brown paper. A pack of saltwater toffee and a book. _East of Eden_ ; Jesse had it zip-locked in plastic to keep it somewhat waterproof. 

 

He watches Gabriel’s expression hopefully. 

 

“You really are you attempting to bribe me.” Gabriel grumbles, fingering at the spine of the book with the sharp of his index.

 

“Is it working?” Jesse prods.

 

“Of course not. You’re a fool.” Gabriel retorts.

 

“Only for you.” Jesse quips back, earning him a languid swish of Gabriel’s tail and a splash of ocean water to the face.

 

They share the saltwater toffee together, passing the bag back and forth between them. Jesse rambles about his day. The shipment of weapons that got lost in transit. Really though, how could someone _misplace_ an entire cargo container of military grade firearms. The shipment had been due to arrive in New Mexico next week. Themba had paid the price for that one with a bullet to the cerebellum. He explains the dilemma at the grocery store and the old lady who’d tipped him some coins to cover his food bill. How he’d been late for the bus and had to stand out in the rain for twenty minutes before getting here. 

 

Eventually Jesse lights up another cigarette to catch his breath. Gabriel goes for a lap around the enclosure, dipping beneath the surface. He reappears a minute later, churning the water with his mighty tail. 

 

Jesse watches as Gabriel slips onto his back to float on the surface. The gentle flutter of his gills—the strain of his ribs against his skin as human lungs aid in the oxygen process. It’s a vulnerable position, something that would never occur in the wild. 

 

Jesse has the abrupt urge to be closer to Gabriel. He pulls his t-shirt from over his head and rolls his jeans up to his knees. The water is cold. The sort of cold that makes his breath hitch and spine stiffen, but he continues on until the water’s lapping just beneath his knee caps. He gets used to it quickly.

Gabriel watches from his lazy position afloat. Dark eyes narrow—keen on Jesse’s every move. Eventually the merman glides closer, still belly up. Jesse reaches out to place his palm on the plane of Gabriel’s stomach. He strokes along the ridge of abdominal muscle, smooth and water-slick against the rough of his own skin. 

 

Gabriel gives a sigh, releasing a flurry of tiny bubbles from the gills along his neck. 

 

“Feel good darling?” Jesse breaths, running his fingers through the tangle of Gabriel’s hair with his other hand. Admiring the older man—creature— _king of the ocean_.

 

Gabriel doesn't respond; his eyes intense on Jesse’s face. 

 

“Yeah—ah’ know. _Ah’ know_.” Jesse mutters, “You ain’t one for talking. And we’ve discussed this before, but. It’d be nice, you know? Just once.” he furrows his brow and gnaws his bottom lip. 

 

“Yes, so I don’t have to explain a second time.” Gabriel grumbles.

 

“I’ve been coming here for wha—eleven months now?” Jesse pushes the subject forward anyhow. Despite how Gabriel’s stomach goes taught beneath his hand, tail flicking in agitation. 

 

“We can’t be like that.” Gabriel says tightly.

 

“We could try, just… one time. And if it don’t work, well then. We won’t have to do it again.”

 

“You and I; not compatible.” Gabriel flips back over and Jesse withdraws his hand. The merman swims out arm’s length into the deeper part of the enclosure. 

 

“I love you.” Jesse tries. 

 

“Yeah, and I could hurt you.” Gabriel growls, sinking beneath the water’s surface so that only his head is visible to Jesse. It's pouty and ridiculous all at once.

 

“But you won’t sweetheart. We’d take it real slow, I’d make it real nice for the both of us.” Jesse treads water through his fingers, catching bits of kelp and algae that float about.

 

“Jesse…” Gabriel warns.

 

“Gabe, it’d mean so much. To be that close… to feel you.” blood warms Jesse’s cheeks and prickles down the back of his neck at the words. 

 

Gabriel sinks further beneath the surface, eyes narrowed and mouth downturned at the corners. 

 

“Just… think ‘bout it, will you?” Jesse sighs.

 

“I did.” Gabriel retorts, spitting water in Jesse’s general direction.

 

He snorts, splashing water back at the merman, “Yeah, well think harder on it. Give me the benefit of the doubt here.”

 

Gabriel doesn’t reply immediately. The merman bobs beneath the surface, breaking the surface closer to Jesse with a watery exhale; “Cut my hair.” 

 

Jesse rolls his eyes at the demand and the sudden change of subject, “It’s beautiful as is.”

 

Gabriel scowls, “It’s too long for in here. Bring scissors next time.”

 

“Is that you way of kicking me out _and_ demanding a haircut in one go?” Jesse drawls.

 

“Yes.” Gabriel deadpans.

 

Jesse groans. But nonetheless he retreats from the water. Heaving himself back up onto the deck, he grabs his shirt and shoes and readies himself to leave. 

 

“Enjoy the book. Try to make this one last a little longer than two days.” he calls over his shoulder on the way out the door. 

 

The rain is still pouring, making the boathouse’s interior seem calm and safe in comparison. He locks the door behind him and starts walking back down towards the main road, away from the Port district. 

 

_He knows Gabriel needs space_. Time alone to think. To swim the permitter of the enclosure a thousand times. But even that won’t substitute for the open ocean. Perhaps Gabriel loathes it— _loathes Jesse_. Gabriel has every right in the world to do so. 

 

But then and there, Gabriel also watches him leave every time. 

 

And Jesse always returns.

 

///

 

Three days later, Jesse arrives back at the boathouse. The grey skies over North Oregon are decisively merciful; it’s only misting today. The air thick with humidity. 

 

As he approaches the Port district, the familiar smell of boat tar and the ocean’s stench fill his lungs. He slips inside, whistling a cheerful tune as he shucks off his shoes and rubs moisture from his brow. 

 

Gabriel appears swiftly this time, breeching the surface in the shallow end.

 

“Scissors, as requested.” Jesse pulls the metal tool from his pocket, holding them up for Gabriel to get a look.

 

“You listened.” Gabriel says jeeringly.

 

“Course ah’ did, don’t mean your hair needs cutting though.” Jesse says, sliding off the wooden dock and padding across the wet sand. Gabriel is already in the shallows, tail moving back and forth, watching as Jesse approaches. 

 

He seats himself on the sand, chilly water lapping at his feet. Gabriel hauls himself closer, settling between Jesse’s legs.

 

“Turn ‘round.” he sighs. 

 

Gabriel follows the directions without so much as a scoff and flips over. Jesse runs his fingers through the thick of Gabriel’s hair. He picks out some seaweed, combing through the tangles using his fingers.

 

“How much?” he winces.

 

“To my shoulder blades.” Gabriel replies calmly.

 

Jesse does as directed. He snips at Gabriel’s regal length, dark locks falling into the murky waters around their bodies. He hums softly, focused on the task. When it’s over, he scoots backwards on the sand, allowing Gabriel space to turn around and face him. 

 

“So, you finish that book ah’ brought you?” he asks, pulling Gabriel’s hair out of the water. It’s a mournful sight, and he can’t help but grimace. 

 

“On page three hundred. Only halfway.” Gabriel replies, rolling back over and folding his arms in the sand. He rests his chin in the crook of his elbow, “It's a dull novel.”

 

“Ah’ ain’t a library service sweetheart. You want something specific, jot it down. Ah’ll find it for you.” Jesse says, scrunching pebbles beneath his hands. He leans back, watching the merman’s relaxed state. 

 

“Too sweet.” Gabriel teases darkly. His tail flourishes about behind his lazed upper body.

 

“You good on food?” he asks. 

 

“Yeah. The head of faculty stopped by yesterday. Checked up on things.” Gabriel supplies.

 

“You get a clean bill of health?” Jesse prompts.

 

“Spotless.” Gabriel says between the sharp of his teeth, a slight smile.

 

“Gabriel, ah’ meant to ask you something. ‘Bout… this here. You being in captivity and all.” Jesse runs a hand down the back of his neck.

 

“What about it.” Gabriel narrows his eye.

 

“Aren’t you… angry? At us, ah’ mean. _At me_.” he swallows thickly, not really wanting the reply to that question.

 

Gabriel takes a moment to mull over his words. 

 

Water ebbs against the shoreline. Licking at the wooden pillars that ground boathouse. 

 

The structure creaks; alive and as sentient as the both of them.

 

And then, finally; “Yes.”

 

Jesse’s shoulders fall.

 

But Gabriel shakes his head, “I loathed people. After the incident on the shipping line, when you hauled me from the tangled propeller. I despised you to.”

 

“Sweetheart—Gabriel. Ah’…” _sorry_ feels so shallow. So self centred on his part, he can’t bare to say it. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand and looks away from Gabriel. Out the green stained window and the grey skies beyond.

 

“But I’m here.”

 

“Yeah—but you shouldn't be.” Jesse mutters.

 

“But I am.” 

 

“You deserved better. Damn state laws. _Damn_ us.” Jesse spits.

 

“But I’m here, and I love you.” Gabriel says, reaching out to take Jesse’s hand. Rubbing a thumb against the roughness of Jesse’s palm, feeling the beat of his pulse. Gabriel releases him. 

 

Jesse suddenly needs a cigarette. He pulls one from his pocket and flicks light to it, hand shaking slightly. Gabriel waits—watches him nurse the earthly condolence with fervour. 

 

They sit in silence, like they most often do. Comfortable in each other’s presence as Jesse smokes and Gabriel lazes within arm’s reach. Until the merman spits a mouthful of ocean water, dousing the cigarette and lifting the mood all at once.

 

“Are you done your pity party?” Gabriel asks.

 

“You put out ma’ cigarette.” Jesse retorts, scrubbing water from his eyes.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You don’t sound too sorry ‘bout that.” Jesse drawls, flicking sand at the merman. 

 

Gabriel slides away from the shoreline, powerful tail lashing about, churning up water. Jesse laughs at the display, cigarette and glum—bloody memories forgotten. He stands up from the sand, watching Gabriel’s display; tormenting the dark waters with each flex of his muscular tail. Splashing about in a proud demonstration of sovereign power over the little plot oceanic kingdom.

 

And then Jesse realizes it; that had been the first time Gabriel said ‘I love you’. 

 

///

 

Jesse spends the Thursday counting high-octane magazine boxes and carefully stacking them in Deadlock’s warehouse. It should've been grunt’s work, but business was slow. Peacekeeper rests idly in his hip holster—a soothing weight of cool, modified revolver thats been the one constant in his life. Besides Gabriel as of recently.

 

He checks the time; 16:45. 

 

When the last box is stamped and placed for shipping to New Mexico, he signs out for the day. 

 

Vikar waves him off at the door, all pearly white teeth and bleached hair. The Icelandic man has taken over Themba’s position as door-greeter since last week. _Jesse likes him fair enough_. 

 

He catches the bus to his apartment district; a drab portion of Coos Bay. Where the cement sidewalks are cracked and sheets flutter in the windows. Wires cross the skyline and the residents tend to keep to themselves. 

 

It’s dark by the time Jesse climbs to the third story of the apartment complex and unlocks the door to his flat. He switches the light on. Flicks on the TV to an old Spanish comedy for background noise. He shuffles to the fridge, dropping Peacekeeper on the counter and takes out a box of noodles and the carton of milk before settling down on the couch. 

 

It’s raining, again. His bones ache for sunshine. 

 

The lady on TV laughs between mouthfuls of champagne and kissing her lover. Jesse shoves more noodles in his mouth, not truly watching.

 

Eventually it turns late and he switches off the terrible comedy and gets ready for bed. He showers—brushes his teeth. Pulls on a ratty pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before crawling beneath the sheets of his mattress. He jerks himself off quickly, wet skin in his mind and salt water in his nose. 

 

///

 

The cargo ship had strayed from it’s shipping route. The navigator steering them closer to Oregon’s green shoreline to evade the coast guard. It’s an unlucky patrol. _Bad timing_ Jesse concludes. He’s up on deck, positioned to the back of the ship. Keeping an eye out for unwanted company across the waters. 

 

He hates the open waters. Bred and raised beneath the beating sun of New Mexico, he took longer than most members of Deadlock to take to the Port life. But there’s bread to be earned, and the starved can’t be picky. 

 

He’s counting individual rounds into Peacekeeper to stave off boredom. The metal cool beneath the rough of his hand. 

 

“Kelp in the propeller!” someone yells from the bridge. 

 

Jesse’s up in an instant, bolting towards the ship’s rail. He leans over the edge along with three others, peering down into the indigo waters. Sure enough, there’s kelp coiled round the propeller, thick ropes of green sea life. _And something else._ It thrashes—flipping about amongst the kelp and the ship’s torrent.

 

“Cut the engine!” someone hollers.

 

“Got ourselves a cuttlefish ‘gents.”

 

“Poor son-of-ah bitch.” another whistles.

 

“That a merfolk?” Jesse asks, knuckles white against the railing. The engine is thrumming to a slow beneath them, but the merfolk still struggles. A minute later, and it stops moving altogether.

 

“Yeah. Stupid thing. They usually don’t get this close to shore.”

 

“Shouldn’t we—ah dunno, save it? Put it out of it’s misery?” Jesse frowns, eyes searching desperately for movement now.

 

“Naw. It’ll drown soon. We’ll cut it out along with the kelp. Keep er’ moving. We got a schedule to—Holy hell kid!”

 

Jesse dives into the water. A stupid move, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. It's as if the devil has pulled him overboard, common sense thrown aside.

 

Salt water rushes up his nose and stings his eyes. The cold water knocks the breath right out of him and he breaches the surface briefly to catch his breath. He treads water on spot, imminently regretting the boots that weight him down, tugging him towards the swarthy depths.

 

He hollers for a knife—spluttering from the ocean water. Someone tosses him a switchblade from the ship and he manages to snatch it before it sinks out of his grasp. And then he’s cutting—sawing—slicing his way through thick rubbery kelp. He’s out of breath in the matter of moments. 

 

Men are yelling from the safety of the deck. Egging him on or cursing his foolishness; he’s not certain, but then his hands are grasping the slick skin of a human. He wraps his arms around the creature’s stilled chest cavity, dragging it away from the tangled propeller. His muscles are sluggish. His chest stings with salt water. But he struggles with the merfolk’s weight and awkwardly unconscious limbs until they’re both in open waters. 

 

A lifesaver splashes down in the water beside him and then a rope. He ties a quick slipknot and slides it around the creature’s upper body. And then they’re both being hauled up the side of the ship. A higher-up is yelling—pointing. He spills across the cargo deck, spitting briny water from his mouth. Someone’s pulling off his shirt—his boots. He gets a slap to the cheek.

 

“McCree, you’re a fool if I ever did meet one.” Vikar rumbles. 

 

Jesse hiccups and slicks plastery hair from his eyes. His attention turns to the merfolk. 

 

It’s starting to regain consciousness, slowly on the rusty ship deck. It’s tail (the length of Jesse’s body) gives a little spasm. And then it’s convulsing violently. Blood pooling beneath it, running in thin rivulets from where the ship's propeller has sliced into it's flesh.

 

Jesse scrambles out of the way, but a sharp dorsal fin catches him in the cheek. He starts to bleed, hot blood running tang into his mouth. He dabs at the wound from a safe distance, chest heaving, eyes transfixed on the man. 

 

Because it really is a man; with dark hair and seething eyes that catches Jesse’s gaze and maintains it. Intense and all consuming. 

 

“Someone grab a bloody gun!” Vikar hollers. 

 

“No—Keep it alive. We can’t dispose of the body here.”

 

“Gotta turn it over to the coast guard.”

 

“Out of our jurisdiction.”

 

In the end, Vikar hits the creature over the head with a metal pipe. They lash it with rope and plastic zip-ties before tossing it into an ice box, stowing it below deck. All the while Jesse watches on, words in his mouth that he can’t quite speak. 

 

_Mind him. Mind him. Mind him goddamnit._

 

But his tongue is thick at the back of his throat, and he watches. Only to speak up, offering to turn the creature into the local coast guard. The safest means of disposing of the merfolk.

 

State Law demands quarantine of sentient oceanics who come in contact with humans. So he does just that, claiming to have struck the thing whilst on a fishing troller. He loiters around long enough to catch a Port address—to hear self righteous men dice words over humane handling and habitation circumstance. 

 

They tag the creature through the tail fin. Like how they tag cattle down in the good state of Texas.

 

And he watches from the sideline, hands shoved deep into his pocket. A cigarette clenched between his teeth. Because he's a criminal, and he can't protest a darn thing.  

 

///

 

“—The sands scratchy.” 

 

“Too bad.”

 

“Doesn't it get in your gills?”

 

“Never been a problem.”

 

Jesse doesn't have a witty reply readied in his back pocket. Mostly because he’s peeled his jeans off, and his shirt. Just his briefs remain, and the sand itching against the tender skin of his stomach. 

 

Gabriel has made a small nook; a comfortable divot in the wet sand for Jesse to cradle in. Gabriel’s body presses against him from behind. The weight is bearable, if somewhat awkward. 

 

“You’re tense.” Gabriel comments, voice gruff. But his hands are soft against Jesse’s flesh, prodding the muscle on his hip, snugging up close to his backside. Gabriel hooks a thumb between Jesse's skin and the elastic of his briefs, tugging them down and away.

 

“Sorreh. Just ain’t—”

 

“You’re tense and this isn’t going to work if you’re tense.”

 

“Then tell me what to do Gabe.” Jesse breaths, resting his head on his arms. He steadies his breath, relaxes his body into the nook that Gabriel so painstakingly made. He’d watched; two hours the older man had pushed around the sand in the enclosure with his tail . Tossed in pebbles—tossed out the pebbles. Smoothed the damp sand--fluffed it up. Gotten fed up with the location so started all over on the opposite side of the enclosed boat house. 

 

“Tell me, so ah’ don’t fuck this up.” he pleads, voice rough. 

 

Gabriel pauses behind him. He can feel the older man assessing him, one hand stroking down his spine and he arches into the touch like an underfed lover. Starved of affection, which he supposes he has been.

 

“We—out in the wild, mate. Not like humans. Not for pleasure.” Gabriel starts, and Jesse can hear the scowl on the other’s mouth. 

 

“—I could hurt you, real bad Jesse. And I don’t think you understand that.” Gabriel sounds displeased.

 

“We’ll take it real easy. Just… it'll be fine.” there’s a whine to Jesse’s voice even he’s ashamed of. 

 

Gabriel shuffles, but eventually grumbles, “Fine. Stay on your stomach.”

 

Jesse nods. He exhales, eyes wide and staring at nothing in particular. Cool ocean water laps at his bare feet, but Gabriel’s body is warm. Slick and solid against his own, pressing him into the sand as the other settles down on top of him. He feels it a moment later. Gabriel’s member prodding against the inside of his right thigh, Gabriel giving gentle thrusts in an attempt to locate his opening. 

 

He remains still, the pit of stomach fluttering.

 

Gabriel growls, tail thrashing in the waters at their feet. 

 

“Here, lemme’.” Jesse mutters, snaking a hand back between their bodies. He takes Gabriel’s member in his palm, running his thumb up the underside, appreciating the other man. He gently guides the other to his entrance which he’s prepared beforehand. Two fingers slick with lube, working himself loose back in his apartment’s bathroom. One foot balanced on the toilet—one hand clutching the porcelain sink. He should feel embarrassed about that, but he’s not. Because then Gabriel’s pushing inside of him. The intrusion of Gabriel's cock is cooler than his own body temperature, which is an odd sensation. 

 

“ _Shit_ , darling.” Jesse mutters, the breath having left him. His thighs are tense and burning, toes curling and digging into the sand. He waits for Gabriel to move, wiggling his hips side to side. Gabriel starts up a jerky pace, movements short and stressed for control, body stiff against Jesse’s own. The cock head jabs him in a soft spot and he groans, forehead pressing into the sand.

 

Gabriel snarls, leaning over Jesse to sink sharp canine into the nape of his neck. 

 

“Keep still.” Gabriel rumbles from between clenched teeth. 

 

Jesse nods, keeping the motion minute. 

 

The pace quickens into brusque, stuttering thrusts. Gabriel’s canine sinks into the flesh of his neck, pricking blood, stinging him amongst the haze of arousal. He’s not hard himself, which is a surprise because he can feel his orgasm welling. A blooming heat in the bottom of his pelvis, making him squirm, breath hitching. 

 

“G-Gabriel.” he bites past a moan, fingers digging into the sand. Desperate to ground himself, Gabriel’s rutting pushing him back and forth within the nook. He throws his head back, stomach muscles spasming, mind reeling. 

 

Gabriel’s still got his skin between his teeth, all but silent now. Absolute focus on the desperate rutting into Jesse’s human warmth. 

 

“I-It’s alright sweetheart.” Jesse stutters, arching into the older man, vocalizing his want, “— _s’ alright_.”

 

Gabriel throbs inside of him, tail violently thrashing about in the waters at their feet. The thrusts turn harsh, their wet flesh slapping crudely against one another. He’ll bruise, no doubt. And then suddenly Gabriel stills. A flush of delicious warmth rushing inside of him. _Too much_. He comes with a shout moments later, every muscle in his body going lax, collapsing beneath Gabriel. He’s panting, filling his lungs with the smell of salt water. _The smell of Gabriel_. 

 

His cheek presses into the wet sand, utterly spent. Gabriel doesn't pull out though, opting to roll them both over onto their sides so he’s being cradled by the merman. Their skin sticks together; slick with salt water and sweat. 

 

Jesse doesn't want to move, itching sand forgotten. Content to rest against his lover, blinking moisture from his eyes. He's not sure if it's from emotion or the damp harbour air.

 

Gabriel clutches him tight, thick arms tight around his chest, face nuzzled against the welting bite mark on his neck. 

 

“You’re fine.”

 

“Ah’m fine.” 

 

“Not hurt. You’re fine.”

 

“Yeah—yeah, we’re just fine.” Jesse repeats, nestling further back against Gabriel. He’s a mess; hair plastered to his face, sand sticking to his skin. His thighs are burning, feet cramped. But he’s content. _Goddamnit he’s content._ Relief in finally being this close to Gabriel. Sate, his stomach full of warmth. 

 

A seagull screeches from somewhere outside.

 

Water laps against wooden pillars. 

 

He shifts to scratch his chest, but Gabriel growls a warning, tail swishing. 

 

“No, stay.” the words are low, gravelly. Gabriel pulls them together even tighter. Possessive as if the other man might up on two legs and leave.

 

Jesse chuckles, stroking the older man’s bicep. He’s not sure when they’ll pull apart, Gabriel separating them again. Probably grumbling something about safety and Jesse the fool’s well being. But at the given moment, he's not budging. 

 

 


End file.
